Proof of Life

"Are you okay?" asked a concerned friend in an email over the weekend.

"Are you dead?" whispered Aaron's teacher from last year. She might have yelled it, but we were waiting for the temple dedication to start.

"Update your blog! I'm tired of looking at naked Cameron carving a pumpkin," demanded (nicely) another.

I guess a 4 month hiatus is long enough.

Honestly, I've been touched and even a little bit flattered that so many people care. And I'm sorry to have left you hanging back there after Halloween. I'm not really sure what happened. I think I just started feeling a little redundant.

I'd written about Thanksgiving and Christmas the year before and I didn't really have anything new to write. Life carried on. We had New Year's, Cam's 12th birthday, Valentine's, a new calling (Primary Secretary), and another shot in the foot. What more was there to say?

Not that I didn't feel guilty. Besides the occasional urging of family and friends, I knew that blogging was a record of my/our life and that it needed to continue. It was a good thing to journal our ups and downs, put up a picture or two, and connect with people.

But then a week turned into a month and that turned into two, three, and four months, and now I've got people wondering if we're even alive! Sorry about that.

We are alive. We are well. We are happy.

We are kicking back on a Sunday night.

Aaron on computer. And thank goodness for that. He's been practicing the recorder all weekend, and I am frankly all Hot Cross Bunned out. If you know what I mean.

Troy, fresh from a shower after 4 1/2 days on the road. He's relaxing with a game that has him battling Nazi Zombies. Not how I would relax, but he's pretty into it. See how he attempted a smile, yet he couldn't even take his eyes off the screen?

And here's Cam, organizing his dresser. That's just what he likes to do on a Sunday evening. Is the top of your dresser that neat? Mine isn't either. How about that haircut, folks? Scroll back down to see what it looked like in November.

Ollie, sitting in his favorite spot where he can look out the dirty window and let us know if anyone is passing by. Oliver is getting his hair cut tomorrow.

And here's my foot. Got an injection last week, and I'd like to say that it looks worse than it is, but that would be a lie. In an otherwise very blessed, busy and happy life, my foot continues to torment me. Not much has changed.

In other words, life is good.

It even felt good to blog again.

Aaron On Housekeeping and Hormones

Aaron, upon walking into the kitchen and finding it clean:

"Sweeeeeet...you did the dishes!"

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Aaron, after listening to me vent to Troy (over the phone) about Cameron's general poor attitude and pre-pubescent sulking:

"I used to be the bad* one...and now it's Cam. Cool, huh?"


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Aaron dropped an open bottle of pills and they scattered across the kitchen floor. He and I were down on hands and knees looking near the baseboards and using a flashlight to look under the stove. It shone on crumbs and dustbunnies, a juicebox straw and general nastiness.

"Eeeewwwww," I said, "Aaron, this is gross...I'm sorry it's such a pigsty."


"That's okay...we're used to it."

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After an emotional outburst from Cam, complete with stomping feet and a dramatic exit (the hormones, people, the hormones!!!!), Aaron asked,

"What's up with Cam?"

"He's going through a hard time."

"He's being a jerk*."

"No, he's just having some grumpy pre-teen feelings."

"I'm gonna go with jerk* on this."

And I quietly thought in a whispery voice, "Okay, me too."

(Just kiddin'. Cam! Even for a grumpy tween, I think you're great! Super, even. Mama just needs to give you a little space to spread your wings, huh? But in case I forget, cut me a little slack, okay?)

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Disclaimer: I have never ever ever called anyone in the family "bad", "jerk", or any other name. Ever.

Happy Birthday, Aaron

Nine years old! How did that happen?

Here we are on Aaron's Gotcha Day - he was two days old. Nope, can't even describe how it feels to be chosen, to be given a baby. For once I really don't have any words that seem adequate, but I think the picture tells it pretty well.

Aaron's hair was slicked down tight - and I mean really, really tight.

The next morning, we found out why...

Oh, my!!!
We got the hair thing (somewhat) under control...and then his head...um... his head started...growing.


And growing...


And growing...

(this is just about my most favorite picture ever!)

Oh Aaron,

We've had some moments like this:

hopefully, more of this:
a lot of this: (we're camping...I don't wear makeup or wash kids' faces)
and this:
and this:

and definitely a lot of this...


Aaron, you are so loved. You make me laugh, you make me want to be a better Mom, you make me proud, you make me a little crazy sometimes, and you make me feel loved.


Every single day, you make me happy.

Love, Mom

Birthmom Sabrina, Aaron, and me - how lucky are we?

Happy Birthday Aaron!!!

The Suit

A couple of weeks ago, Cameron announced that he needed a suit. We couldn't have been more surprised - this is the kid who hates to wear his church clothes, needs special socks to function, removes all tags, and can hardly stand to have anything other than the softest, smoothest fabric touch his skin. A suit? Really?

Yes, really.

Apparently there were some big events coming up in his 11 year old world, and he felt like a suit was called for. I knew we'd be buying one when he turned 12 (sacrament passing and all), and I was expecting a fair amount of complaining over that - yet here he was, asking for one.

"Why do you need a suit?"

"For Junior Achievement Biz Town...I'm the CEO of the restaurant. I have to dress up. And after that we're going to the symphony."

I must have looked skeptical because he quickly added,

"And Easter. You always want me to dress up. I just need a suit."

"Well, okay."

Then I made him promise a thousand times that he would actually wear the suit and that it wouldn't go the way of every pair of jeans I've tried to buy him. 'Cause I don't think they make suits out of stretchy cotton jersey or the silky polyester track pants material that he loves.

The whole family was going along for The Buying of the Suit. We kind of had to see it to believe it. But as we were walking out the door, my friends came by with an invitation to go on a walk - how could I resist? So Aaron and Oliver went with the walking women and Troy and Cameron set off to buy the suit. Troy assured me that he could handle this. Mmmmkay.

Later that night, it was suit modeling time. Cam was so pleased and excited to show me. He had the tie, the white shirt, black suit...I waited in the front room while he changed and Troy fixed his tie. He walked out to show me.

At first sight, I sucked in a breath and let it out with a loud "aaawwwwwwwwww". He looked so good, so fine, so, so grown up. I oohed and aahed and spun him around, wiped a tear, and just stared at him. He knew he looked sharp, all dressed up, ready to be the CEO of a fictional restaurant, attend the symphony and dazzle on Easter morning.

But then...

As I looked a little closer, something wasn't quite right. The jacket was too big. Huge, even. It did not fit. At all.

Still smiling and not wanting to ever cast a doubt in Cam's mind that he looked awesome, I whispered to Troy,

"What's up with the jacket...it's kinda big."

"Yeah, they didn't have a jacket in his size. I didn't think the store would let me, but I found another suit and just took the jacket from that one. It matches."

"Not size-wise. It's huge!"

Then to Cameron,

"You look so good...did you cut the tags off already?"

They were in the wastebasket.

Size 10 pants...a perfect fit.

The jacket? Size 12, Husky.

Cameron could fit three of himself in there. He is nowhere near a size twelve and he's the opposite of husky. He looks like he's wearing a Zoot Suit. Hard to tell, but his knees are about 4 inches from the bottom of the jacket. He needs a fedora hat and a machine gun.

I pulled Troy into the bedroom with me, where I could hiss at him properly.

"What were you thinking? It doesn't fit!"

"It fits good enough."

"Why didn't you try another store?"

"'Cause this one's fine. The store didn't care."

"It was Sears. Of course they didn't care - they were just happy to have someone in their store!"

"He'll grow into it."

"Yeah, if he triples in size!"

Cam walked in and we sang out,

"You look soooooo handsome!!!!!"

He beamed.

"I know the jacket's big, Mom, but I like things loose. It's comfortable."

Troy still hasn't lost the smug look on his face.

So here's Cam - future CEO of Comfortable Clothing, Inc., selling mismatched suits to "I'm only going into one store" Dads. When not quite right is good enough.

Still looks pretty handsome, though, don't you think?

Unintentional Break

Oh. Hello. Sorry I wasn't here when you stopped by, my faithful readers.

I read somewhere that you shouldn't apologize for not updating your blog - to do so would be narcissistic and with the assumption that people were clicking on right and left, waiting for your words. But apologizing - or at least offering an excuse - feels like the least I can do, when people have been wondering and asking me where I've been.

I've been...uuuuhhh...busy. Yeah, busy...that's the ticket. I became busy in this final week of February.

There was a doctor's appointment, two dental appointments, two orthodontist appointments, several prescriptions to fill (2 pharmacies, crazy amount of waiting time), a few birthdays to shop for, the district science fair set up and (tonight) interview and judging, a Blue and Gold Banquet, a couple of English lessons with my new Iranian friend, Mah'naz, and all the other things that seem to take up my days.

Also, I've been watching Oliver discover the outside world in some delightful, dare-I-say, Spring-like weather and marveling that Cameron's mouth is now full of painful-looking metal, and that it is costing more to straighten his teeth than it did to adopt him.

It seemed the week went by in a flash - I hardly even sat down to the computer. See? Busy.

But everything is fine, life is good, and I hope that's true for you as well.

I bought a new scented oil for my Bath & Body Works oil warmer - Pineapple Mango. It's sweet and fruity and heightens my anticipation for Spring. It's making me happy.

What, in your busy life, is making you happy today?

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad

32 years!!!!!

Yes, my parents were married on Valentine's Day, which I always thought was very romantic - an entire holiday centered around them.

They had a whirlwind romance: He lived in California, she lived in Utah with her two daughters, (the youngest of which was particularly sweet) and they were set up on a blind "date" phone call. One phone call led to another and then another and then another. This was before free weekend minutes and unlimited long distance. It was a full-price long distance romance.

I hate that I don't know more specific details (help me out, family) about how it all came together, but the next thing we knew, they were getting married. And I really hate that I don't have one of their wedding pictures to put up - it was the 70's, so you know it's good.

But check them out now - don't they look amazing? And they are in love. It's the real deal, hand-holding, door opening, good-bye and hello kissing, I made you a cherry pie, I gassed up your car for you, let's take a walk together, flat-out adoring kind of love.

How cute are they?

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. Thanks for your example of a happy marriage, of care and concern, of respect and romance, and true, true love.

May we all be so lucky.

Honey...I'm Home

We got home from my parent's house last night, and only a few minutes after walking in the door, the phone rang. It was Cameron's friend, calling to tell him that President Hinckley had died. (I thought that was a very mature and thoughtful thing for an 11 year old boy to do)

That was the first of several calls we received and made last night.

"Did you hear...?"

"I just saw on the news..."

"Just wanted to make sure you knew..."

Aaron, ever my sensitive boy, got a little panicky and needed some hugs and reassurance about things in general. He wanted to pray, so we did that and then went downstairs to watch a little of the "breaking news" reports. Aaron caught the phrase that President Hinckley had died "about an hour and a half ago" and began using it in his own conversations.

"Mom, up until about an hour and a half ago, President Hinckley was the only prophet in my life, huh?"

One station was showing a documentary about President Hinckley's life and we watched part of it together. We brought out an Ensign with the pictures of the First Presidency and the General Authorities and talked about change. We read his last talk from Conference.

You know how if you read a quote by President Hinckley, you can hear his voice, with all the inflections and tone right there in your mind. I love that. I will miss his voice, his humor and wit, hearing his testimony and the powerful messages that he wove around gentle stories of his life and his love for our Savior. I will miss him.

I didn't shed a tear though, until I started thinking about the reunions going on up in Heaven, and then I can't hold back. Can you imagine?

I have an unwavering testimony of eternal families and relationships, and that death is not an end, but a beginning. I'm so happy for President Hinckley!

He's with his wife again. He doesn't need his cane. He's able to talk to all the past prophets and friends that he's served with. He is with the Savior. The thought that won't leave my mind is that he's meeting Joseph Smith. They have lots to talk about.

Mostly, I imagine that Sister Hinckley is holding on tight to his arm and just about bursting with happiness. Finally, he's home!

She tugs him away from all the happy greeters.

See you later...we've got some catching up to do.

Happy Birthday Cameron!

I'm a few days late on this, but on his actual birthday, we were doing, well, birthday stuff.

Cameron turned eleven last Saturday. Eleven...eleven!

We had a really fun day - Troy was home and we spent the whole day together. As usual, I tried to show my love through food, waking Cameron up to German pancakes. My side of the family was coming over for dinner and Cameron had requested a dinner of spaghetti with meat sauce (no onions or mushrooms) and garlic bread (with no cheese), and key lime pie for dessert. I spent a good part of the day preparing the meal and doing some cleaning, and generally hugging him whenever he walked by.

Cameron got everything he wished for, including the funds (thanks Grandma and Grandpa and Great-Grandma) to purchase a computer game he wanted. While Troy did the shopping, installing of the game and cleanup from the party, I snuck away to go see the movie Juno with a friend.

I had wanted to write about the emotions that this movie stirred up inside me and how it all related to Cameron's birthday, his amazing adoption and my feelings about his birthmom. But when I start to write, the words don't seem adequate. My language just isn't enough to explain everything about my boy, his birthmom, and her gift that made me a mother.

He is my heart.
She is too.

I don't want to be tearful and emotional as I write to celebrate Cameron's birthday. I want to be funny and joyous over this sweet kid that I absolutely adore. I want to tell you about all his remarkable qualities and characteristics, and how he makes me laugh, his easy-going attitude and everything I love about him.

The other stuff, the fact that the happiest day of my life was his birthmom's hardest day, is just too emotional for words - even eleven years later. Maybe I can write about it someday. Maybe not.

So today I'm just going to share a few pix. That's the beauty of blogging - you don't have to wait for someone to ask to see a picture of your kids - you can just throw 'em out there.

I don't have any pictures of Cameron on his actual birthday.
Our story starts on his Gotcha Day. He was one day old.

This was taken just moments after Cameron was laid in my arms. Don't look at my hair - just don't even look at it. (Seriously, what the heck???) Instead, look at that beautiful, perfect baby boy. Red lips, slicked hair, tiny curled up little body, wrapped in a blanket made by his birthmom's sister.

He was my dream come true.

Back at home, we spent the rest of the day receiving visitors and talking on the phone.

"He's here...he's ours..."

There was a brief period in Cameron's life when he had a little body fat.

That was then...

This is now...

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures of Cameron. The hair...those lips...

That was then...

This is now...

Oh, those lips!

That was then...

This is now...

I guess some things don't change.

Happy Birthday, Cameron!!

I love you. You make me happy every single day.

I'm so grateful that you are mine and I am yours.

Come and gimme a hug.

Audiophile #2 - Aaron

A year ago, my kids didn't listen to any music. Hannah Montana? Never heard of her. High School Musical? Huh?

But then last spring it all changed. At ten years old, Cameron stopped watching cartoons and became interested in a show on TeenNick called Drake and Josh. Cutie Drake was in a band and the show featured him playing his music. The boys were hooked. They watched and sang along, discovering this whole new world beyond the few Kids Bop cds I used to buy.

Then it was on to the Disney Channel where Hannah Montana aka Miley Cyrus, Cheetah Girls and High School Musical stars roam freely. And if you like them there, wait till you hear them on Radio Disney. Oh my. We listen to it every time we're in the car and every morning during breakfast.

Aaron, in particular, has been struck by how much fun the music is. He knows the words, has a few favorite artists, and enjoys all the bits of trivia and factoids about the singers.

He can tell me all about the Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus - how old they are, where they got their start, etc. He knows all the real names of the High School Musical characters and what else they've done. He can name the song and artist after just a few notes.

I was exactly like that, rattling off information about Rick Springfield and Cyndi Lauper, and explaining why George Michael was so much better than Andrew Ridgeley. That Air Supply was from Australia and how Prince and Madonna were just misunderstood and I should be allowed to listen to them. How I wasn't paying attention to the words...I just liked the beat. And...

Whoops, this is about Aaron.

He loves all of the Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus music. Loves. It.

The other day a song came on and I asked Aaron,

"Is this Miley Cyrus?"

"Mo-om!" His voice dripped with duuuhh. "You don't have to say her whole name. All you have to say is Miley. She's the only one. Just say Miley and I'll know who you're talking about."

Okay then. She really has arrived.

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The other morning at breakfast he was listening to the duet that Miley and her Dad (Billy Ray Cyrus from Achy Breaky Heart fame) sing. Miley had some background vocals going on and it was perplexing.

"How does she do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make her voice go double at the same time? I can't figure it out."

"Well, honey, that's why she's a star!"

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But here's the thing: I am loving this music too! It probably helps that Zac Efron and Drake Bell and Corbin Bleu and the Jonas Brothers are so darn cute, but the music isn't half bad either. The Miley/Billy Ray duet makes me tear up a little, and I can dance all over the house to the Cheetah Girls and the Jonas Brothers. Hannah Montana rocks!

I'm enjoying the same music as my kids. I mean, really enjoying it. Sometimes I find myself listening to Radio Disney and the kids aren't even in the car.

So does this make me a cool Mom or is it weird? My parents never ever listened to the same stuff I did.

Did yours?

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

Years ago, my mother decided that she wanted to have a theme tree for Christmas. All the kids were grown to the point that she was no longer receiving the ornaments made at school, so by golly, she was making a fresh start. She got all new ornaments and created a Santa Claus Tree. She mixed clear lights and red balls with Santas of every shape, size, and color. It was fantastic - looked like something from the Festival of Trees.

Wanting my own beautiful and unique Christmas decor, the following year I created my little trio of trees. I had these three lodgepole pines (the same ones Cam used this year to go around our nativity) that I grouped together on our windowseat, and I decorated them with clear lights, pinecones, plastic berries tied with raffia, glittery tufts of dried weeds, and dark cranberry and pearly cream colored balls with raffia bows. I nestled those three trees on a blanket that looked like snow and set the two piece nativity beneath the branches. It was, and remains, the craftiest thing I have ever done.

Then I took things just a little too far. I wrapped every single present in brown kraft paper and tied a raffia bow (seriously, you can do almost anything with raffia) around the middle. Then with a hot glue gun, I added a pinecone, or a berry and some glittery dried weeds.

Merry Crafty Christmas!

Oh, how it's all changed! For one thing, that chubby-cheeked little baby in that picture up there is turning eleven in about three weeks. And we no longer have the trio out. We have a big artificial tree in the corner of our front room that is decorated with a mishmash of ornaments. There is no theme. The lights and the balls are glowing with every color and silver tinsel garland drapes between different ornaments that tell the story of our family.

Little angels for the babies we lost.

And now, one for Jeffrey.

We have a preschool gingerbread boy...

and puzzle piece wreaths,

golden pasta from my golden-haired boy,

a motorcycle for Cam,

and can you guess who this one belongs to?

It's a glorious tree - and no amount of raffia or color-coordinated ornaments and presents could ever be as fun to put together as this is.

At least for now.

What does your tree look like?

Theme or no theme?

Away In A Manger

When I was growing up, I always liked to help set up the nativity for Christmas. The pieces we had were painted ceramic, and I suppose that they were not expensive or of very high quality. But I loved them. I'd carefully unwrap them from their tissue paper and place them just so in the stable. Then I'd move them around a little...switch those two shepherds with the camel...put the sheep in front of the donkey...move Joseph just a hair closer to Mary. It had to look just right.


The stable was made of wood and it had bits of straw and irish moss glued to it in places. One of the wisemen was painted black and Mary's robe was painted blue. There were probably even a few pieces that were chipped or had places where the paint had worn off.


The set was discarded long ago - it wasn't like it was valuable or an heirloom in any way. My parents now have a beautiful nativity, the kind that is passed down to the next generation.


I have three nativities - and I think they're all pretty nice. The first one I got after my Grandmother died. It's not fancy, but I cherish it because it was hers, and she loved it.


The pieces are small - the entire 15 piece set fits inside an 8x8 cube box, along with two pieces of purple velvet. This is the top of the box:

My Grandma had wrapped all the pieces in Kleenex, and that's how it stays. The Kleenex is torn and falling apart, but it smells like her and her home. I can't imagine ever throwing it out in favor of crisp, new tissue paper. I miss my Grandma.

Here is the Family. Joseph is only about 3 inches tall.

And some of the other pieces...

It's priceless to me.


My next nativity set was made by my mother-in-law and given to us years and years ago. She was really into ceramics and (hopefully) made one of these for all her kids. She painted the pieces with a pearly clearcoat.

Cameron took over the setting up of this nativity. He's a lot like me...making it look right, with each piece in an aesthetically pleasing spot. He did this whole thing with the lodgepole pines and extra garland all by himself. It's sitting in a window seat in our front room. He did an excellent job. I think it looks really nice.


The only thing that I don't really care for in this set, is that Joseph has his arms folded. I like the outstretched arm from my grandma's set better. I don't know...the folded arms make him look bored or detached from the situation. He should be more welcoming to the visitors, saying "Come and see...". I'm probably the only one who thinks that. I really like the stable. It reminds me of the one we had when I was a little girl.

My last nativity is just this small two piece set. Does it count as a nativity if the wisemen and the camels aren't there? I don't remember where I got it, though it's possible that my mother-in-law made it as well. I love the closeness of Joseph and Mary and the fact that Mary is holding Baby Jesus, and how they are both just looking at Him with wonder and awe. 'Cause that's how it really is when a new baby comes.

That Baby Jesus is loose though. When I took the big piece out of the box and started unwrapping it, I couldn't find the Him! I frantically squeezed all the wads of tissue paper, worried that He'd gotten misplaced or thrown out. I found Him, carefully wrapped and down in a corner of the box. Whew!


And then because our house is small and the boys insist on using every single decoration, (also because we decorate one room and one room only), this peaceful scene of the Baby Jesus being held and cuddled and loved by His parents, is being watched over ...





by a giant, smiling snowman.






Do you have a nativity?

What makes it special to you?

Let It Snow

This was my house last Saturday:

My kitchen floor has small puddles of melting snow, starting at the sliding glass door and trailing clear through the room. Don't run...you might slip!

The hallway holds all the outerwear. Everything is wet and cold and was flung off as fast as they could manage. It's as if they took them off as they were walking. The trail of boot, glove, hat, other boot, other glove, snow pants, hoodie, and coat (everything times 2) leads into the bathroom. First one there took a hot shower while the other got to warm his hands against the mug of hot cocoa. We're going through a dozen mugs in a day.

Bathroom floor has underwear, socks, shirts and towels. And more puddles.

The front closet and the surrounding floor is littered with all the gloves, scarves and hats that didn't get worn, but still needed to be dumped on the floor and rifled through.

The pristine, glittering snow is no longer pristine and glittering. It is used in both the front and back yards. Every inch of it. Nothing pretty about it.

Lucky me. (sigh.)

Please.

There were snow angels...

And knocking the snow out of tree branches...

A little football...

A little snowball...

Some eating...


And frolicking..

And general brotherly love.

So how lucky am I?

Very.

What do you like to do in the snow??